


Whoops

by BrilliantlyHorrid



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness Abounds, CousyFest 2k17, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Nonsense, Nude Photos, Pure unadulterated silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 07:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10531755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/pseuds/BrilliantlyHorrid
Summary: Phil had never really worked a normal corporate job, but he’d gone undercover enough and spent enough time in the real world to know that, no matter what your career, sending your boss a nude photo of yourself was serious business. Particularly when your boss was also a friend, pseudo family member and superhero.CousyFest Day 7: Free theme!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts), [hamsterfactor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamsterfactor/gifts).



> Don't even know what this is. Enjoy! Happy CousyFest!

All he did was put down his phone.

Okay, he dropped it, _gently_ onto his bed. But that was all it took. One quick bounce against a firm mattress and poof, his life was over.

It was _over_ , right?

Phil had never really worked a normal corporate job, but he’d gone undercover enough and spent enough time in the real world to know that, no matter what your career, sending your boss a nude photo of yourself was serious business. Particularly when your boss was also a friend, pseudo family member and superhero. After all, it wasn’t as if he was worried about any sort of career-associated repercussions here. But personal? This was bad.

It had started off like any other day. That’s how most end of the world stories started, right? He was getting ready in his bunk, fresh out of the shower and brushing his teeth when he noticed his phone blinking on the bed. He checked the message; a quick note from Daisy asking him to bring information about an associate of Talbot’s to their meeting that afternoon. Phil typed up a response in the affirmative and, eager to finish up brushing his teeth and put some clothes on (had he mentioned he was naked? Why bother with modesty in the privacy of his own room, after all,) he simply dropped the phone on his bed.

Phil wasn’t sure why he had such an immediate feeling of wrongness after. It didn’t flash, and maybe he imagined it, but he seemed to feel the slightest spark of static electricity pull at the fingertips of his prosthetic as it fell.

 _You’re being paranoid,_ he told himself, eyeing the phone before walking over to his bathroom and rinsing out his mouth. It was nothing.

Phil looked at himself in the mirror, contemplative. It _was_ nothing, right? The carelessness of dropping an unlocked, extremely high-tech phone while in his current state suddenly struck him as risky. Stopping at the last moment to grab a towel to wrap around his waist, he hurriedly went back in the room to check, just in case.

“Oh god,” he muttered, tapping on the screen. “Oh _god._ ” Dropping the phone again, then panicking and making sure it was locked and he hadn’t sent anything else, Phil covered his face with his hands.If he hadn’t already died once, he was sure it would feel like this.

* * *

  
“I can’t send Elena, she and Mack are going to see her family for the week,” Daisy muttered, scanning through the invitation Piper had handed her. “What about you, any interest in being a representative of the Inhuman Community at this _gala_?”

Agent Piper narrowed her eyes. “I’m not an Inhuman, Ma’am. Director.”

“Well, they don’t really care about that, do they?” She dropped the invite on her desk. Another group of lobbyists hoping to get in on their cause. AKA exploit the Inhuman image and use them to prop themselves up. She sighed, raising her arms above her head until her back cracked. She had been up late doing research for the half dozen meetings on her calendar today, then up early to finish that up. Daisy figured she probably spent more of her night sitting at her desk than in an actual bed. Was it even worth unmaking her bed? Maybe she would just start sleeping on top of the covers.

“Ma--Director, your phone.”

Piper’s voice pulled Daisy out of her own head. “Hmm? Can you grab that for me? I just thought of something,” she said, pulling out a file from the cabinet about Talbot

 _Talbot_. “Wait, never mind. Why don’t you and your team work on that new formation we talked about.”

Coulson was supposed to get some intel for her, and while she had reinstated the ‘no levels’ policy in SHIELD, she wasn’t exactly open to her text conversations with the former director being public knowledge. It was nothing bad, but she was pretty sure that she ended her Talbot request with a poo emoji, and while Piper was discreet, it was unbecoming for the Director of SHIELD to make a mockery of their allies. (No matter how turd-like their behavior may be.)

Assuming Coulson’s response would be along the lines of “yes, I’d be happy to bring those materials,” or even just “yup,” (an oddly cute texting habit of his she’d come to recognize,) Daisy let herself get sucked back into her work for another twenty minutes or so.

Stumbling upon another name she wanted Coulson to look into, she picked up her phone. Sure enough, he had sent a response of “yup,” along with--

“Oh, god,” Daisy gasped, putting her phone face down on her desk. Giving herself a moment, she contemplated the odds of Coulson’s SHIELD issue phone getting hacked. It wasn’t _impossible_ , but if she were hacking SHIELD (again,) her priority wouldn’t be sending nudes to the Director. Not to say there weren’t gross hackers out there who wouldn’t jump at the chance now that she was at the helm, but it seemed...murky.

_But what’s the alternative, Coulson sending--_

“No way.” Staring at the back of her phone, Daisy laughed to herself. Coulson would never, _ever_ send her naked pictures. It was ridiculous. She tapped her fingers against the desk.

“I mean, the logical way of figuring out who it is is looking,” she told herself. It was 100% Not Coulson on that phone, right? So what was the harm?

Quickly, like she was ripping off a band-aid, Daisy flipped her phone over and unlocked it. She gave it a short glimpse, looked away, then leaned in closer. The face wasn’t really visible, but everything else was pretty clear. _Everything._

All things considered, it wasn’t a bad photo. She had seen her share of dick pics (she was a woman existing on the Internet, after all,) and this was actually kind of tasteful? Kind of like “oh, didn’t see you there. Yes, this is my penis.”

“If nothing else, you’re a good photographer,” Daisy muttered, giving some marginal credit to the possible creep sending nudes to the director of SHIELD. Back in agent mode, she started looking for hints about his identity, when she remembered whose phone this had been sent from.

There were two things that should have given it away immediately, she realized after, but she had been otherwise distracted. _Just_ visible on the subject’s (hairy, well-formed) chest was a darkened area she knew to be a scar. She hadn’t seen it before, but she knew it was there, there was no mistaking it. And as for the band of metal around his arm? It was blurry, as if the limb was falling to his side-- _wait so who took the photo? LATER, DAISY--_ but she’d seen it enough to know what she was looking at.

Daisy put the phone back down on her desk, shamefully looking one more time before she locked the phone. Okay, so she knew the who, now there was just the how and the why. AKA how and why did Coulson send her a dick pic?

 _Clearly it was a mistake,_ she told herself, that much was certain. Even if they were kind of flirting these days, Coulson wasn’t the kind of guy to go from “you look nice today” to “here’s a picture of my penis, enjoy.”

But how exactly does someone _accidentally_ send nudes? Maybe Daisy was just overly cautious, but even back when she did do the long distance, send a sexy picture thing, she was extremely careful to make sure she sent it to the right person. And clearly she was not the person Coulson meant to send it to.

_So who is he sending them to?_

“None of my business,” Daisy sighed, trying to distract herself with something, anything to work on now that she knew what Phil Coulson looked like naked and had far more questions than she was probably supposed to have.

It suddenly occurred to Daisy that she and Coulson would probably have to address this issue, when a knock at her door almost sent her flying out of her chair. 

* * *

   
“Come in!” Daisy called, and there was a lengthy pause before Phil took a breath and opened the door to her office. She sounded normal, maybe she hadn’t checked her phone yet. Maybe he would have time to come up with a reason to look at her phone and delete it before she--“Oh hey, you,” Daisy said as Coulson entered.

_Yeah, she definitely saw._

“Director,” he greeted, and Daisy gave him a strained smile.

“What can I do for y--”

“I’m going to assume you know what I’m talking about when I say that I’m incredibly sorry and mortified and it was clearly a mistake,” he said quickly, getting it over with. His eyes bored into the surface of her desk, unable to make eye contact.

“Uh, yeah,” Daisy stuttered out, and he imagined she was looking anywhere but at him as well. “I mean, I didn’t think talking about Talbot would put you in _the mood_.”

Coulson winced. He didn’t often wish for death, but in this case...

Daisy cleared her throat. “Yeah, so we can forget that ever happened,” she said, and Phil tentatively looked up. She looked uncomfortable, but had a small, charitable smile on her face. “Never happened,” she repeated, and he nodded.

He was about to turn to head out the door, maybe make contact in another week or so when he felt okay about it, when he realized there was still one order of business.

“Daisy, do you think you could--”

“Huh? Oh, yeah of course,” she said, nodding profusely. “I’ll delete it right now.” He must have looked like a deer in headlights, because she closed her eyes and sighed. “You probably want to...do the honors, don’t you?”

Phil just nodded, sure he was redder than he’d ever been. Handing him her phone, Daisy did the bare minimum to look like she was busy. Not ready to see the image again, on _Daisy Johnson’s phone_ , Phil sighed, bracing himself.

Once he finally got the courage, he was faced with another obstacle.

“Daisy?”

“Hmm?”

“Your phone is locked.”

“It--oh, jeez.”

“If you want to just tell me the pass code I’ll--”

“No, it doesn’t quite work that way,” Daisy said, resigned.

 _Right. Hacker._ Awkwardly handing the phone back, Coulson looked at the ceiling. “Just--you already saw.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about all this,” she said, and Coulson would point out there was no reason for her to apologize but he was pretty much out of words at this point. That was not the case for Daisy, as she distractedly tried to unlock the phone, not look at it, and reassure him. “I mean, we’re fine, right? It’s not like it was even a big deal. I mean...it was a big deal, bigger than I thought it would be. Not that I _thought_ about it a lot, or that it would be--”

“Daisy just please delete the photo,” Coulson begged, and a very red in the face Daisy did so quickly, glancing at her photo just enough to finish the job.

“There, done,” she said, showing him the screen.

“Great,” Coulson said, having been through too much that day to be relieved. The damage was beyond done. “See you in three weeks? Maybe a month. Or ten,” he said, turning on his heel to walk out of the room.

“See you then,” Daisy replied, and when he closed the door behind him, Phil could have sworn he heard the familiar sound of a forehead hitting the desk.

* * *

_  
-Briefing at 10 tomorrow?-_

Having just gotten to her bunk, Daisy was relieved to find the text on her phone wasn’t anything that would require her to trek back to the office. It had been another long day and she was ready to crash. Beginning to absently text Coulson back as she unbuttoned her jeans, Daisy had an epiphany.

Things...okay they could have been weirder, probably, but they were still kind of awkward between the two of them. How was she supposed to act, after all? Once you accidentally saw someone’s penis, how did you go back to that state of not having seen it? Could you go back? Even when there were other things going on, there it was, hanging over their heads.

_Phrasing._

Not to mention Coulson’s guilt, which was ridiculous. Him sending it was an accident, but her constantly thinking about it? That felt like a betrayal. So him tiptoeing around her only made _her_ guilt worse. Things needed to get back to normal, and fast.

And it was crazy, but Daisy just might have thought of a plan.

There was no going back from having seen a nude picture of him, but maybe if she evened things out…

If there was one thing that could get her to do this, it would be saving her friendship with Coulson. That was normal, right?

Shucking off her pants, then, on second thought, her shirt, Daisy went to text him back.

_-Yup, 10 am sharp-_

“Okay how did he even manage this by accident?” She muttered, sending the text then going to camera mode. She awkwardly angled her phone in a way that got just enough, but not _too much_. Tasteful but not too intentional. She snapped a photo. “Whoops."

She planned on just sending it right away, but gave it a closer, critical look. Unsatisfied, she tried again, adjusting the angle. _Much better._

“I mean, _whoops_.”

Hitting send before she had a chance to change her mind, she tossed her phone on her bed. _There, even,_ she thought.

Things would _totally_ get back to normal.

* * *

   
“Thanks for coming in, Agents Morales and Davis will bring you back to your jet,” Daisy said, shaking hands with the day’s crop of government employees and military representatives. They said their goodbyes, following her agents out the door of the conference room.

“Director?” Coulson asked, and Daisy pushed down the amused yet terrified feeling in her gut. “Can I have a word?”

“Of course,” Daisy said, crossing her arms over the folder she held to her chest. She waited.

Coulson eyed the doorway, and the SHIELD staff passing through the halls outside it. “Maybe in your office?”

Nodding, Daisy gestured for him to lead the way. It took about five seconds of walking to her office--the office of the Director of SHIELD-- until she realized that maybe she had made a huge mistake. She was Coulson’s _boss_. And while he had definitely sent her his photo by accident, it had to be fairly clear hers was intentional?

_Oh my god. I just sexually harassed Coulson._

She'd had a whole _plan_ ready. Coulson was going to ask about the photo, she was going to be like 'oh no, oh god, so embarrassing,' they would have a laugh, delete the photo and get on with their lives. But she'd forgotten. 

Daisy stopped in place, just at the bottom of the stairs. She knew she shouldn’t have made that decision after such a long day, she wasn’t thinking clearly. But they were friends, right? And she really was just trying to make _him_ feel better.

_By sending unwanted sexy photos to a technical subordinate and former mentor and probably just making the whole thing weirder._

“Daisy?”

Coulson’s voice snapped her out of it and she gaped at him, not sure what to say. There was an apology at the tip of her tongue but she had no idea how to start. Coulson was _smiling_ , but when he saw her face he suddenly looked surprised, with an undercurrent of panic.

“Wait, was it actually an accident, sending me--”

“What? No! And ssshhh!” Daisy shushed him, looking around despite knowing there was no one else within earshot. “I just--I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” she said, and his eyebrows shot up. “Things have been weird since...well, and I thought this would even things out and make it less...weird.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, now that I’m saying it out loud I see the flaws,” Daisy muttered, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly. Coulson shoved his hands in his pockets, sighing. “Look, I know you’re probably disappointed in me or creeped out but I swear, I totally forgot about my position here now and it was totally inappropriate.”

Coulson seemed puzzled. “I didn’t even think about that,” he said, half to himself. Shaking his head, he put on his profiler face. “So you sent...that to me to make me feel better about accidentally sending...that to you?”

Daisy just nodded.

“Well that’s kind of sweet.”

_Not what I was expecting._

“You think?”

He shrugged. “In a way.” That smile was back on his face, the one that looked like he was trying to keep it down but it couldn’t be held back.

“In a weird, gross way, or…?”

Coulson pursed his lips, not really looking at her anymore. “Definitely not weird or gross,” he admitted, and Daisy felt a pleasant blush on her cheeks.

“Yeah well, right back at ya,” she said awkwardly, then, when she wasn’t sure what to follow up with, she punched him lightly on the arm. “Sorry, that might have been weirder than sending you a photo of my boobs.”

His face did A Thing at that comment, and Daisy was starting to think that he really didn’t hate it after all.

“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. He looked around at the whole lot of nothing happening around them, like he suddenly had somewhere to be. “Well, since that’s all set I should probably--” He pointed down the hall.

“Probably do what?” Daisy asked, delighted at the peeved expression on his face.

“I have a thing.”

“Oh I’m aware.”

Coulson gave her one last ‘stern’ look before leaving, quickly.

She should probably just drop it, Daisy realized. It was even now, they were back on the bantering level, so she should stop, right?

But there were too many questions. How much did he not hate having that picture on his phone? Was it still on there? Was that the best she could do?

* * *

  
She was trying to kill him. All those years of friendship and cooperation, all a ruse so she could slowly, brutally murder him. In a way that no one would expect, because he would _never_ tell anyone until it was too late.

It was up to three more now.

 _“Director Johnson,”_ he had asked formally after the second. _“Exactly how secure is the mobile network we’re on?”_

Daisy didn’t even dignify that with a response, just a look. A ‘who do you think I am?’ look, which he admittedly deserved. But he was a cautious person. He valued privacy, as he was sure Daisy did, and he didn’t feel right continuing to get those pictures on his phone if they weren’t 100% secure to Daisy’s satisfaction.

(He definitely didn’t feel right _keeping_ them on his phone. In a separate password protected folder that--yeah he should probably delete them anyway though.)

He wasn’t sure what her game was. Was she just trying to get a reaction? Mission accomplished in that case; he was able to carry on with his work but whenever he saw her afterward he knew it was written all over his face. Whatever ‘it’ was. Or maybe she just enjoyed it. He was pretty sure neither of them had had very active sex lives since... _oh god, it really has been long._ So maybe after the first one she decided this was something she liked, and felt safe sharing with him. But while she was a great leader and plenty social, Daisy was a pretty shy person, especially in front of the cameras.

_Maybe this is helping with that?_

Catching her eye across the kitchen, Coulson tried to be normal. She was in gym clothes, sweaty, like she had just finished a workout. Her smirk as she walked out the door was all he needed to see.

_Nope, definitely option number one._

Placing his coffee mug in the sink, he sighed. She wasn’t expecting _him_ to even the score, was she? After all, his only foray into that kind of photography was an accident, as she well knew. And he didn’t have much interest in repeating the experience. Hell, the idea of taking regular selfies felt ridiculous. And that was of his _face._

But there was still an element of unfairness to it, he thought. He had been so adamant about immediately deleting the picture off of her phone. He didn’t want to be a hypocrite. His accidental contribution had been so blurry though, and he doubted he could do better on purpose. Daisy, as with every other technical skill, was a natural photographer it seemed. The angles, the lighting, and it wasn’t as if she needed any help with the subject.

Phil perked up.

He had an idea.

* * *

  
“You want me to what?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Coulson pleaded, so Daisy just waved him in the door of her bunk. She had found him waiting there after she got out of the shower, with a request she had to admit she was not expecting.

“I mean, I can do it,” she told him, not wanting to discourage whatever was happening. “I will, but I guess I’m just curious why.”

He shrugged. “I guess I thought I should...even things out.”

Daisy sat at her desk, amused. _That sounds familiar._ Then she frowned. “But wait, why don’t you just--”

“It feels silly,” he answered, and Daisy rolled her eyes.

“You think I don’t feel silly when I’m doing it?” She asked, and Coulson seemed surprised.

“You don’t look silly,” he shot back, and Daisy tossed her hair back.

“Well, thank you very much,” she said dramatically, drawing a wry smile from him. “But besides evening things out, is there any other reason?”

He considered the question, sitting on the edge of her bed. “I guess I’m not sure why you’re doing it,” he admitted. Daisy wasn’t expecting that. She thought she was being obvious. As obvious as she ever could possibly be.

Sighing, she walked over to stand in front of Coulson. Cupping his face in her hands she felt his breath catch, but he didn’t move away. Slowly, so as not to startled him, she leaned in and gently kissed him. “I guess because I was hoping you would do something like that,” she told him.

“Oh.” He was surprised, clearly, and Daisy had to admit that was kind of bizarre. Knowing what he’d already seen.

_Really? No idea?_

“I thought you were looking for a reaction,” he told her, leaning into her palm like he didn’t realize he was doing it.

Daisy smirked. “Well, I mean, I was.” There were a few reactions she was hoping to get out of him, and she pretty much got all but one, the one she wanted most.

_Initiative._

“I guess I was being kind of indirect, with my _directness_ ,” she conceded. Somehow, despite her initial awkwardness, Daisy found the pictures easier than actually talking about her feelings. But of course, this was Coulson. Someone she actually enjoyed talking about her feelings with and trusted with them. She must have forgotten that along the way.

(But hey, at least she was having fun while she waited.)

“Yeah, I’m going to need you to spell it out for me again,” Coulson said, tugging at her waist until she obliged him and kissed him again. This time he responded immediately, his mouth opening under hers, his fingers curling into her terry cloth robe.

Yup, this was definitely more along the lines of what she was looking for. Letting herself get pulled into his lap, Daisy raked her fingers through Coulson’s hair.

“So,” she asked, pulling away slightly. She looked over his extremely kissable face, raising an eyebrow. “Do you still want me to take dirty pictures of you?”

Coulson frowned. “Those weren’t dirty,” he argued, and Daisy gave him a look. “They were tasteful.”

She sighed with faux disappointment. “Can’t say that’s what I was going for, but hey, there’s always room for improvement.” Tugging at the collar of his shirt, she smiled. “Whaddya say Phil, want to be my guinea pig?” Considering his enthusiastic response, Daisy decided a healthy mix of showing and telling was the way to go.

**Author's Note:**

> Yup.


End file.
